


think, and think again

by totalsafety



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, and like possessiveness I guess?, but definitely jealousy, like covert low-key implied possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalsafety/pseuds/totalsafety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skov + Swan drag Ronan into a game of pool while he's waiting for Adam to finish his shift feat. v slytherin Adam</p>
            </blockquote>





	think, and think again

“Well. Fuck you, Lynch.” 

Skov runs a hand through his hair, the dark locks sticking up between his fingers. Leaning against the wall, Swan smirks. He pushes off the wall and rounds the pool table, holding an expectant hand towards Skov. Grudgingly, Skov shoves a bill into the other’s hand.

“And **_especially_** fuck you, baby bird.” 

“Later,” Swan says. He pockets the money and keeps walking towards Ronan. Looking over his shoulder, he gives Skov a wink Ronan can’t see. 

“I told you he would win. Look at these cheekbones.” Swan trails his fingers under Ronan’s eye. “And this **_jawline_** ,” Swan purrs, tracing a line to Ronan’s chin. Thumb dangerously close to Ronan’s bottom lip, Swan holds the other’s face for Skov to see. 

“Do you think this face could lose at anything?” 

Ronan jerks his head out of reach just as Skov uses both hands to flip them off. Swan smiles, hip against the pool table so he can face Ronan. A blur of pale hair, Swan leans in as if telling a secret. Instinctively, Ronan leans back— straight into Skov’s chest. He processes Skov’s hand on his upper arm just as Swan starts talking.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Swan whispers, nodding towards Adam at the other end of the bar. Ronan follows Swan’s gaze until they’re both looking at Adam. Unabashedly staring back, Adam slowly spins on the barstool, spinning the other way when he’s completes a half circle so he doesn’t lose the view. 

Adam watches Swan whisper something else, a knowing smile on his lips. It makes Ronan push both boys away before stalking out of the room. He passes Adam without a word and heads straight for the doors. 

Adam glances back to the pool room, catching Swan wiggling his fingers in a wave with Skov viciously grinning. It’s too easy for Adam to keep a passive expression. When he hears the door swing open, Adam hops off the barstool and jogs to catch up to Ronan. 

“What was that about?”

“Just pool,” Ronan grumbles. 

“Didn’t look like just pool.”

“Don’t remember asking you.” Ronan stops, turning to face Adam. “In fact, what the fuck is **_that_** about?” He gestures toward the black digits on Adam’s wrist. 

“Just work,” Adam lies.

Ronan grabs Adam’s arm, holding it between them so they can both see the heart next to the last number. In the dark, the ink is barely visible, but the forest fire in Ronan eyes is. They say _did this fucking heart just appear while we were talking is Cabeswater giving you numbers to call now my my what bubbly penmanship Cabeswater has and a HEART looks like there’s a new favorite._

“Doesn’t look like just work,” Ronan snarls. 

Adam’s heartbeat catches, his mind recognizing the opportunity for indulgence. He knows he shouldn’t, but he also knows he won’t be able to pass it up. Luckily, the balance between shame and gratification is scaled towards latter this time. Unluckily, it’s been that way lately more often than not. _Not a good sign Adam this is so wrong do not do this control yourself._

“Why? Are you jealous?” Adam says, letting a little bit of his accent through on a whim. Monotone and expressionless, he slips out of Ronan’s hold and keeps walking towards the BMW as if they’d never stopped. 

Adam knows it was too forward to be clever. He still relishes the thrill, nonetheless. He calmly ducks into the BMW, giving Ronan time to compose a counterattack. As Ronan slides into the driver’s seat, Adam catches his eye, asking again with a look. 

“Jealous of what,” Ronan spits, jamming the key into the ignition. 

“I don’t know.” _You tell me. I want you to say it._

“Whatever.”

Adam has to turn his gaze out the window, smiling behind his fist and hoping, swearing, that was the last time. He also knows that that might be a lie.


End file.
